Eyes of a Bright Star
by Fiery Charizard
Summary: Fic entered in Zoo's 2nd contest. When a person is recurrently pushed, they get to a point where they push back and inflict 10,000 times more damage. This is the story of one such person WARNING: Sadistic content! Please R&R!


I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!  
  
Ok, well this wasn't going to be uploaded until I got my results, as this was my entry fic for Zoo's 2nd   
contest. Apparently the contest has died so I'm sticking it up. I'll let you guess who's pov it is ^^  
  
I do warn you this is heavy angst and quite sadistic- if you don't like that then I think you should stop   
reading now. This is probably the most sadistic thing I've ever written (besides Scarlet Fangs). This is   
rated R for a reason- okies?  
  
Warnings: Sadistic content, violence, blood, torture  
  
Enjoy!  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
'It doesn't matter if I cry  
Don't matter if I plead  
Feel the stain of tears   
Falling on this face you loved for years'  
  
- 'It doesn't Matter', Alison Krauss + Union Station   
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Eyes of a Bright Star  
  
Look at you, you're pathetic. Thinking you're so powerful and in control. Silly, silly _boy_, you don't   
even know _what_ control is.  
  
I know what it is, I know I have it when I look down at you. You're silvery bangs fall about your face,   
sweat clinging to your ivory skin; giving it a glossy, porcelain appearance. So beautiful, so misleading.   
Your eyes, oh your eyes. They are what I love most about you; did you know that? No, of course you   
didn't.  
  
They don't look the same anymore. Make them look how they did dammit! You give a small grunt as   
my booted foot connects with your stomach; a satisfied smile falling across my face. So alike to yours   
that strangers think we're twins; but we're not are we? We're different. Your eyes are different. I love   
the way they used to hold that little spark within them that no one but me could get close enough to see.   
I saw it, you know I did. Do you remember when I looked for it? How the blood trickled sweetly down   
your cheek as my eager fingertips searched for the source of that spark. The way your screams filled   
the room as I ripped through the soft tissue of you right eye, looking for that light.   
  
We had fun then didn't we?  
  
We still do; well I do at least. Pain _is_ fun. Fun, fun, fun! I bet you love it really; you just like to act   
like you don't. I wish you could see why I have to do this. You've been bad; such a bad boy and you   
must to be punished for it. If only you'd listened to me, if only you'd been different. It's not even me   
doing this to you, it's yourself. You're punishing yourself for not listening to me, for rebelling against   
me!  
  
It's. All. Your. Fault.  
  
This room was beautiful once, just like you. It had pretty wallpaper, mint green with little imprinted   
flowers; you can still see some of it. There never was a carpet, it was laminated so it looked more   
spacious. You had to go and spoil it didn't you? It was perfect and now you've spoilt it! I yank your   
head up by your soft bangs so that you can see all the mess you've made. The pretty green wallpaper is   
tainted red, the hard wooden floor brown with old blood. Your blood, though some of mine has been   
spilt on this floor.  
  
I sometimes wonder what it would have been like, if you had been the way I wanted you to be. We   
would have been _happy_ and all my efforts would have been worth something. Now I can see that no   
matter how hard I tried you would never change; would never be perfect- the way I wanted you. I can't   
believe I've had to share a body with someone like you. It makes me sick.  
  
I pick up one the glittering toys from the table. It's so beautiful, the way the soft electrical light reflects   
off the metal; making it shine like one of the sky's stars. I bet you wish it was a star don't you? Lying   
there, your wonderful sleek body exposed and bloodied. And those cords look so _good_ on you,   
stained as they are. That's what happens when you struggle, when you try to escape. Your skin is torn   
beneath the ropes, biting and tearing through muscle and whatever flesh is left.   
  
I kneel down beside you, tracing my fingers along your scarred and bruised torso, smiling gently as you   
recoil from my touch; as though my fingers held poison within their tips. Your chest heaves as your   
breath quickens, but why? Fear? Pain? Both? That's not all I feel though, there's something else.   
  
You're shaking.  
  
Why do you tremble lover? I'm only trying to help you, I want you to see things as they are. You've   
always needed me even if you've never admitted it. Maybe you felt something close to love for me; I   
know you didn't hate me as much as you liked to make me think. I'm not sure what I feel for you any   
more, at first it was hatred, then love and now perhaps it's a mixture of both; a loving hate.  
  
I look into your eyes, well, eye if you wish to be accurate. You look so hurt and betrayed. You've been   
betrayed before, but not by me. You walled yourself in, refused to let down the barrier that you took so   
long to build; not for anyone. Except for me that is, I was the only one. And look where that got you.  
  
I feel something stir inside of me as I look into your saddened gaze. I don't know why, but I find   
myself leaning forward, toy forgotten as I drop it to the floor. My own silvery bangs fall forward as I   
lean over you, my mouth inches from yours. With one swift movement, I grab the cloth around your   
mouth and yank it down; exposing your bloodied lips, before I capture them with my own. I kiss you   
hungrily with a long withheld passion. This isn't the first time, but I doubt it shall ever happen again;   
therefore I savour it, I think you do too. I taste the delicate coppery blood inside your mouth as I thrust   
my tongue in, exploring every inch, every tooth once more. We haven't done this in months, and   
somewhere inside of me a voice screams, telling me to let this continue, to let us go back to what we   
were. It yells at me until I pull away, finishing what intimacy we still had.   
  
Again I look into your eye, but now your expression has changed. It is calm and yet it still pleads. I sit   
up straight, still kneeling by your side. I look away but I still feel your gaze locked on me, as though   
you're waiting.   
  
What do you wait for lover?   
  
Even after all the agony you've been through, you still manage to return your gaze to what it once was,   
the way I used to like it. The only thing missing now is that spark, but I never found that so there is no   
point in looking again.   
  
"I won't ask you to stop because I know you wouldn't anyway. All I ask is for you to end it."  
  
I glance over at you, surprised. You haven't uttered a single word in weeks, whether I let you or not.   
Annoyance pools my emotions, a creased frown decorating my brow. My fingers close around my toy,   
tips running over the smooth ebony handle.  
  
This is _my_ game therefore I make the rules and I choose how I want to play! You think you can   
command me? Make me do as you wish? But…even if it is my game, you are still taken into   
consideration. I rest my star against the pale skin of your chest. You recoil from the cold metal as it   
sends goose-bumps across the surface of your skin.   
  
I slowly drag it down, leaving a thin red line in its wake. Blood oozes from the dancing trail, I smile as   
you bite your lip against the pain, as I run over old cuts, scars and bruises. I wish you could share the   
same thrill I feel I do. That's what being evil really is. It's not trying to take over the world or beating   
all the good guys; like in the movies. No, evil is truly different.  
  
It is the feeling you get when you find pleasure in the things others do not, like now for instance. You   
believe me to be 'evil' for what I am doing to you. I dig my toy in that little bit deeper as I listen to   
your agonised scream with joy. Evil does not come from darkness, darkness is not a form of evil; evil   
comes from everything. There is no such thing as a completely _pure_ being. Everyone has those little   
thoughts of all the things they would love to do to those they hate. Tearing their flesh into ribbons,   
snapping bones and maiming them in every way possible. It is the thrill of knowing you have ultimate   
power which others could never even _hope_ to obtain.   
  
Evil is life itself.  
  
What I am doing is just one of it's many forms. I dig into your gaping flesh brushing the tip of my   
glittering star against your rib bones, watching as your expression deepens with pain. Your breath   
escapes thick and fast.   
  
If you were a masochist you'd enjoy this.  
  
But you're not, it doesn't matter though. I finish my line down the centre of your beautifully marred   
torso. I place my toy back on the table, picking up a fresh one. This one isn't as bright; it is a fading   
star, waiting to be blown out unceremoniously. I begin to draw it against the right side of my line,   
letting the dull metal form my letters for me. Do you know what I'm writing? Can you feel the words   
form against your blood washed skin?   
  
Words are nice aren't they? Without them we couldn't even communicate. We would be a race without   
language, without knowledge, without anything. And words can mean so many different things, some   
are misused beyond belief, some just aren't used enough. Without all these words we could never   
describe half the things we need to.  
  
I finish what I'm writing and begin again across the oozing line, carefully etching into your flesh.   
Unwanted tears of pain sting your eyes, dribbling down the sides of your face; making you look almost   
angelic. I smile, finishing my word before brushing the lone tears away with my thumb. I'm not   
immune to emotion, I do feel sorrow, happiness, anger; the same as you do. I only do this for your   
punishment. If I hadn't got to you first, who knows who would be doing this to you right now? At least   
I was nice to you, at least we're a _part_ of each other.   
  
My fading star dances across the left side of the line as I begin to finish my inscription. Do you wonder   
why I am writing it? I'm doing it so that we both know how yamis and hikaris are, what we _truly_ are.   
We are not what we appear to be, no we are completely different.   
  
There, I have finished.   
  
Can you see now how I have put it? It is so easy to understand. I point to the left of your chest, you're   
eye follows me. Hikaris are one half of the being, they are the light side. I point to your right side.   
Yamis are the other half, they are the dark side. We both knew that already though so that's not   
important. I touch the words I have inscribed over the barrier.   
  
Good and Evil.  
  
Neither belongs on either side, yamis are no more evil than hikaris; whilst hikaris have no more good in   
them than their yamis. In terms of 'good' and 'evil', we are exactly the same. Some of us just appear to   
be pushed more to one side than the other. Like me for instance. I _appear_ to be more evil than you,   
yet I am not. You carry the same hate, the same sadistic rage I portray. You just don't have the   
opportunity to show it.   
  
Well, lecture over, I have nothing more to say.  
  
I discard my faded star, picking up my most treasured toy. The handle is pure silver, decorated with   
stones of sapphire, ruby, emerald and topaz. Intricate leaves have been sculpted into the metal giving it   
that extra little touch. The blade itself is solid gold, not gold plated, not fake gold. It came from Egypt   
so I'm told, maybe it was even used for the same purpose I'm going to use it for now. The blade curves   
up into a sharp point, blood channel directly in its centre. This is my favourite toy, only used for special   
occasions.   
  
I smile down at you, I feel sadness of sorts tug at my lips. I look once more into your chocolate eye,   
there I see pain built up upon pain. I see no barriers, no defences; you have none left. I broke them   
down one by one. I see a longing to be released, to spare you from more misery.   
  
I hope you understand why I am releasing you. I can't let you go on, knowing that one day you will die   
by someone else's hand and I know I could not cope with that. We were not meant to be together   
forever like what happens in fairytales. We were meant to part, you were always meant to go by my   
hand. So now I fulfil our destiny.  
  
Gripping the dagger in both hands I raise it high. I bring it down quickly, plunging it directly into your   
chest, through your ribs and into your beating heart. Fear vanishes from your eyes, replaced by what?   
Wait…I see what it is.  
  
Gratitude.  
  
I grab another dagger and slice through the ropes binding your wrists. I grip your bloodied hand as I   
watch your eyes begin to cloud over. My other hand rests against your cheek as I see a tiny wisp of a   
smile grace your lips. You give a final shudder as your body gives in, your strong heart ending its   
rhythmic beat. You bright eyes finally fade. A single tear falls from my own eyes as I murmur my last   
words to you.  
  
"I'm sorry Yami."  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
And that's it! If you haven't guessed by now it was Ryou's pov (well it's one way a good guy could go   
evil). Anywho Sharp Falcon is in the making, so I'll update soon ^^  
  
Please Review! 


End file.
